Academy’s Genius Swordmaster

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 228: Through the Sea, to the City of Dragons (1)

“Keuk! Ugh!”

Ronan retched. It felt like his stomach was like being wrung out like a rag. Even the refreshing sea breeze felt nauseating, like foul liquid. Shullifen, who was staggering next to him, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“…As expected, it’s a strain on the body.”

“Ughhhh! Keukk!”

Aselle clutched onto a log, trying to rid himself of what was inside. None of the three had managed to avoid vomiting. Ronan, spitting saliva mixed with bile, grumbled fiercely.

“When we get back to the Academy… Heuuk, I’m going to break the legs of whoever made this scroll.”

“Ughh… Ughhh… This is really… too much…”

Aselle choked back tears. The three of them arrived at the southern port of Tandrey in less than ten minutes.

The five scrolls they had prepared in advance were all used up. Each time they unfurled a scroll, the lingering image of the ever-changing landscape seemed to linger before their eyes.

However, their early arrival was overshadowed by the fact that they had been enduring pain for about thirty minutes already. It was all due to the side effects of consecutive use of teleportation scrolls.

Ronan couldn’t help but once again appreciate how sophisticated the spatial magic of Katir and Navardose was. Of course, even considering the side effects, it was incomparably more convenient than any other means of transportation.

“Anyway, we’ve arrived.”

Ronan, barely regaining his senses, swept his bangs back. The view of the Tandrey port unfolded beneath the dawning blue sky. The night sea, palm trees, and air slightly warmer than at the Empire indicated they had reached their destination.

“Those lads are still at it. Where are they hurt so bad?”

“No, they just suddenly appeared out of thin air! Why don’t you believe me?”

Some people nearby were pointing and talking about Ronan’s group. Despite the early hour, quite a few people had gathered at the port, most of them seeming like fishermen with their wild demeanor.

Occasionally, women who seemed to be their wives or daughters wandered around. Perhaps it was because they hailed from the South, but they certainly had a captivating charm in many aspects. The harmony of tanned skin and voluptuous gracefulness! Ronan murmured as if bewitched.

“…I should have been born in the South.”

“It wouldn’t have been too bad.”

Aselle didn’t deny it either. There was a certain camaraderie among men. Only Shullifen, with a serene gaze that seemed to dismiss any worries, kept his eyes closed. The nobility of blue blood.

They immediately moved to the most secluded corner of the port. Although they wished to immerse themselves in the nightlife of the South, they didn’t have the luxury. Before long, Ronan spotted a familiar face and waved his hand.

“Hey, Ir.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

Itargand furrowed his brow. He stood in front of the beach tiredly, having come early to ferry them across.

“Just one last time, let me ask. Are you sure I don’t need to come?”

“Yeah, dude. You have enough on your plate with studies and all.”

Ronan clapped his hands. He never intended to take Itargand with them. Putting aside the fact that he was a new student and busy, the fact that he was a kin of Navardose would undoubtedly attract attention in Arden. Itargand caught his meaning and nodded.

“Got it. That certainly seems like the right decision.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, is this the boat we’re taking?”

Ronan pointed to the sailboat behind Itargand. It was a small boat, enough to carry about twenty people. Compared to the crimson galleon he rode before, it was like comparing an eagle to a chick.

“Your tastes have become modest. But then again, the one you used to ride was too noisy.”

“Don’t underestimate it. This may be smaller than the massive log we had before, but it’s a valuable vessel. My Red Gale can perform all actions automatically, even without a single crew member.”

Itargand explained enthusiastically. He described the sailboat called Red Gale as the epitome of magical engineering and the best choice for navigation. Frankly, Ronan wasn’t sure, but judging by the way Itargand boasted, it seemed like a good boat. Ronan patted his shoulder.

“Thanks a lot for lending us such a great boat.”

“Just treat it like your own body. If you get even a single scratch on it, I won’t go easy on you.”

“Sure, sure. Don’t worry.”

Ronan reassured him. Of course he had no intention of handling it roughly. It would take at most a week or so to reach Adren, so what could possibly happen in such a short time? As Ronan and his party were about to board the ship, Itargand spoke.

“Wait, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s been a long time since I went to Adren, so I’m not sure how things are like there now, but it would be better if you don’t go around talking about the fact that you’re my servant.”

His expression and tone were serious. Ronan raised an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

“It’s a trivial political issue. The current Dragon King, Azidahaka, harbors a strong sense of inferiority complex towards Mother. With her absence prolonged, there’s a possibility he might pick on you for no reason.”

“The Dragon King’s grudge. That sounds scary.”

Ronan pursed his lips. It seemed even more dangerous than expected. If it ended with refusing stay or forced expulsion, it would be fortunate.

“Th-The Dragon King?”

“It’s not good news.”

The two listening from behind also reacted. Of course, there was nothing they could do, so they boarded the ship without a word. The departure was quiet.

“We’ll be back.”

“Don’t tarnish my honor as my servant. I hope you achieve what you want and return.”

Ronan waved to Itargand. As he untied the rope tied to the dock, the boat slowly began to move forward. The sun, now beginning to reveal itself, tinted the eastern horizon red over the sea.

****

Adren was situated in the middle of a sea called White Sea. Unlike the beautiful southern sea, which sparkled like jewels, this place felt empty, with waves lapping a pale blue.

After sailing for nearly four days since departure, Ronan’s party entered White Sea in the morning. The intense sunlight, incomparable to the land, poured down onto the deck. A massive disturbance cloud floated on the horizon like an ancient fortress.

“Damn it, I can’t get used to this heat at all.”

Ronan grumbled. He had long discarded his shirt. Though the salty breeze brushed against his bare skin, it was insufficient to cool the heat.

His skin had tanned to a bronze, similar to Navirose. Unlike the Empire, where autumn was beginning to set in, the sea in the south was experiencing the peak of summer. Aselle, who had been reading a book beside an ice pillar he created, spoke up.

“Woah, it’s refreshing when you come here…”

“But there’s no romance. Romance.”

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Ronan clicked his tongue. Since he had never been to such a distant sea in his previous life, he wanted to enjoy this voyage as raw as possible. Gazing at the billowing sails in the fair wind, Ronan murmured with a voice mixed with admiration.

“Anyway, no matter how many times I see it, it’s amazing. That guy had his reasons to be confident.”

“Yeah, really.”

Aselle nodded. According to Itargand’s words, this was indeed an extraordinary ship.

Routine actions such as steering or adjusting the sails, as well as handling unexpected situations like storms or large waves, were handled smoothly. Since the destination was already set to Adren, the only thing the three had to worry about was a possible surprise attack by enemies or what they would eat that day.

“I hope it continues like this.”

“That would be nice.”

Aselle murmured. Ronan nodded in agreement. Despite the determined resolve they had when they set out, it was inevitable for their spirits to wane amidst the same scenery day after day.

They no longer spotted any fishing boats or uninhabited islands. Encounters with marine life such as whales or flocks of flying fish served as variations in their journey.

The three enjoyed this peace. Knowing that they would likely face hardships in Adren, they hoped that at least during the journey, things would remain as they were.

As the leaning sun hung above the summit, Shullifen, who was standing with his arms folded at the bow, suddenly spoke up.

“An island.”

“Huh? Really?”

Ronan, who was lying on a deck chair, stood up. When he looked towards the western railing of the ship, he could indeed see greenish masses floating on the horizon.

“Yeah, it looks quite big.”

“It seems like an island with a name.”

Judging by the several masses, it seemed to be an archipelago. Unfortunately, it deviated from the sailing route of the Red Gale. As Aselle approached late, he unfolded a map about the size of his torso and said.

“It’s called the Pashanti Archipelago.”

“Pashanti Archipelago?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. He had heard the name in passing at some point. Soon, he recalled the incident at Aurora Scar, snapped his fingers.

“Ah.”

It was the island said to be the headquarters of those under the Poison Dragon’s command. Their organization was called Green Teeth or something. Frowning as he looked at the island, Ronan grumbled.

“Annoying bastards.”

The idea of a criminal organization led by a Dragon boss was enough to make one shudder at the thought of getting involved. He recounted the story of the Green Fangs and the Poison Dragon to the other two.

“Hm, so it’s an island with that kind of background. Let’s just go quietly since it might become troublesome.”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me.”

Aselle nodded quickly. Since the ship was already heading towards Adren, it was a problem that would be solved by just staying quiet. Ronan laughed as he patted Aselle’s pale back.

“Don’t worry too much, dude. Will anything happen?”

“Yeah, I guess not…?”

Finally relieved, Aselle breathed a sigh of relief. The three returned to their tasks, focusing on what they had been doing. Shullifen sharpened his sword, Ronan did push-ups while leaning on a tree trunk.

As Aselle began to read the part he had left off, opening his book. Baaaang!! A deafening noise that felt like it could shatter eardrums echoed out, accompanied by a jolt in the hull.

“Hieeek!”

“What, what the hell?!”

Aselle jumped up, screaming. Ronan and Shullifen turned their heads towards the direction of the noise almost simultaneously. The mast, which was supposed to be at the center of the ship, was dented as if it had been bitten by an invisible beast. Thick smoke rose and dissipated in the sea breeze.

“A b-b-bomb?”

Aselle stammered. At that moment, the slowly tilting mast collapsed onto the deck. Crash!! The thick mast, thicker than a cedar tree, completely demolished the deck and cabin roof. Ronan rested his palm on his forehead. Intargand’s voice, saying that he would not go easy on him if there was even a scratch on the boat, echoed in his ears.

“Fuck.”

“Wh-What was that?! Where…!”

Aselle, barely containing his emotions, looked around like a meerkat. Whirrr-! Somewhere, a whistle-like sound echoed. Reflexively, Shullifen swung his sword. Boom! An explosion erupted from the sky about twenty paces away from the ship. As he gazed across the sea, he opened his mouth.

“It’s coming from the island. They’re skilled at hiding their presence.”

“What?”

Ronan dashed to his side. Indeed, from the direction of Pashanti Archipelago, three pirate ships were approaching, cutting through the water. They were galleons several times larger than the Red Gale.

At the bow of each ship, grotesque figureheads resembling dragons were attached. Ronan, who immediately recognized their identity, cursed under his breath.

“Ah, shit.”

“This is the territory under the command of the Poison Dragon, Lord Drahavier! Stop your ship immediately!”

A booming voice echoed from the pirate ships as if confirming his expectations. He had hoped to pass by quietly, but it seemed they had been caught. It was evident that the cannon fire had come from their direction.

With things having come to this, there was no choice but to confront or evade them. Aselle, breathing heavily, was restoring the broken mast to its original position. Ronan, exhaling deeply, turned to Shullifen and said.

“Hah… should I do it? Or do you want to?”

“I’ve already finished one.”

“What?”

Ronan frowned. Hastily lowering his gaze, he noticed that the sword handle Shullifen was holding didn’t have a blade attached.

Ronan was about to say something when – Swoosh! The wind suddenly picked up, and the leading pirate ship split in two horizontally.

[Translator – Peptobismol]

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